


Thus with a Kiss I Die

by FallenKy



Series: Violent Delights [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mourning, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Dies, Soulmates, Suicide, but comes back, hurt!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 17:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16644746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenKy/pseuds/FallenKy
Summary: Sam kills himself at seventeen, darkness thick in his veins and poisonous thoughts for his big brother filling his head. He leaves a note and takes comfort in a leather belt around his neck.Fifteen years later, Lucifer needs his true vessel.





	Thus with a Kiss I Die

**Author's Note:**

> This is in an AU based fairly loosely on the episode 'Abandon All Hope' most of which is from memory. In this universe, the events of spn were delayed due to Sam not being apart of it. So Dean's made a lot more friends (who haven't all died) and the apocalypse is just now starting. Doesn't really add up but it's an AU so we'll go with it. Dean's got his core group of people and they're fighting off Lucifer and trying to survive in a shit world.

It never really left Dean. How could it?

_I don’t really know how to start this_

He knew the sight would be burned to the back of his eyelids for the rest of his life and even in hell it was a personal favorite of Alistair’s to revisit. Nothing else could get Dean to scream quite so loud.

_I can’t see any other way out. I tried but we all know I’m not cut out for this._

He hadn’t wanted there to be a mess, he’d said that in his note. Hadn’t wanted to cause any issue for the motel, police, or Dean and Dad. It would have been much faster to just use one of the guns but he’d suffered through a drawn out death for their sake.

_It’ll be better for you. I’m doing it for you._

Whatever Sam had meant, the sight of little brother hanging from the bathroom door beam with a leather belt snug around his neck haunted Dean’s soul.

_I’m disgusting Dean, if you knew half the things I felt, the things I dream about doing. You’d do the job yourself._

He’d been in the middle of a growth spurt, the doorway just barely tall enough to do the job properly. The belt was one of their dad’s, worn expensive leather from before this life that was sure to hold his weight.

_… I thought college was a way out but they don’t even want me._

Dean had been working that night, picking up a few shifts here and there at the garage downtown. It was good work, gave them a bit of extra cash and he usually was home for dinner. The coroner said Sam must have only been dead for a few minutes when Dean walked through the door. He’d stopped to pick up Chinese on the way home.

_I love you. I love you so much and it’s so disgusting and wrong but I can’t stop it. There’s darkness in me. I won’t let myself poison you too._

He’d barely opened the door when he saw him, all the lights on and the TV humming on low volume in the corner. Sam had helpfully packed all his stuff into a duffle and the note was folded on top. Dean didn’t notice any of those things until later when several EMT’s managed to pry Sam’s cold body from his arms.

_Please don’t be mad._

He hadn’t even called 911, the manager had when Dean’s screaming brought half the motel outside. They had a lot of questions but Dean didn’t have any answers, just stared when they brought out the white body bag and then started throwing punches when they tried to put Sam inside of it.

_I’m sorry._

…

Dean jerks awake with the familiar taste of a name on his lips, his hair sticking with sweat to his face as his heart pounds in his chest. He’s on the couch at Jody’s, Bobby snoring across from him on the recliner and a peek out the window at the dark sky confirms it’s much too earlier for anyone to be up.

It’s not like he’s going back to sleep any time soon though so instead of staring at the ceiling he quietly slips off the couch and down the hall.

“Dean?” Jody whispers when he moves past the kitchen door. Apparently he’s not the only one who’s given up on sleep tonight.

Jody’s at the kitchen table, a small lamp illuminating her workspace filled with half the books on angels they could haul back from the bunker. The coffee in the pot’s still warm so Dean grabs himself a cup and sits down across from her.

“What are you doing up?” He asks her, voice rough with sleep as he sips his mug.

“Researching, what else is new? Lucifer’s out there somewhere and we’re stuck on our asses until he makes his move on Carthage.” She sighs. “I hate feeling useless and hitting the books at least makes me feel like I’m doing something.”

“Ash is tracking his movements from the Roadhouse, we’ve got Ellen and Jo on patrol, Cas is watching the skies, and Kevin’s translating anything we can dig up. We’ve got our bases covered.”

“It just doesn’t feel right.” She sighs, looking back down at an old Apocrypha bible. “You said the angels told you there was a script to follow.”

“Mm, damn near theatrical the way they go on about it. Me selling my soul to stop devils gate, Cas lifting me out, Lilith’s little suicide mission – all part of the grand scheme of fate or whatever. It’s a load of horse shit though, I’m not going to be Michael’s vessel.”

Jody shakes her head, flicking through the pages. “There’s so much about blood in here. Spells, rituals, and a lot about bonds.”

“Hey, family’s a powerful motivator. Look at you and the girls.”

“But what does it mean for us? Lucifer and Michael are brothers, it’s significant.”

“Yeah, because their family drama is going to destroy the world. And Cas said angels aren’t born so they can’t actually be brothers.”

“I didn’t have Claire and Alex, are they not mine?”

Dean sighs, swirling his coffee. “Point taken, but we’re talking about blood. Do angel’s even have blood?”

“When we load Lucifer full of bullets we can find out.”

Dean cracks a small smile and tops up both his and Jody’s mugs of coffee. “Deal.”

“So what about you, what’s keeping you up?”

“Same old.” He says evenly, and it’s taken a long time but he can accept the comforting hand she puts on his shoulder.

“Even in the middle of the apocalypse we still have our old ghosts.” She murmurs and he can see the shadow of her dead family flicker in her eyes.

It’s empty comfort, Dean wishes he was lucky enough to be haunted by his.  

…

They load up the next morning, having been preparing for the lead Crowley tossed into their dog bowl. Ellen and Jo meet them at the Missouri border and with a two car caravan down the empty highway they have their makeshift A-Team.

“It’s a damn ghost town.” Bobby frowns when the pull in that evening and there should be damn tumbleweeds rolling down Main with how empty it is. “Where is everyone?”

“Got out of town at the first sign of trouble?” Jody offers hopefully, “Wouldn’t that make our lives easier.”

Ellen snorts, checking Jody lightly with the butt of her gun as they hesitantly look around. They’ve got the colt, but no Lucifer in sight. Not a single person for that matter.

“I don’t like this.” Dean growls, looking through windows as they slowly make their way down the street. “People don’t just disappear.”

“Bodies don’t either.” Castiel murmurs and Dean rolls his eyes at the morbid moment but he’s got that hazy focus he gets when he’s looking at something only on the angel’s radar.

“You see something?”

“I see reapers.”

Well fuck, that can’t mean anything good. “Reapers? As in more than one?”

“A town full of them.” Castiel confirms, letting the obvious hang in the air.

“Great, so Lucifer came in and what? Killed the whole town? Why the hell would he do that?”

“Could be an omen or a spell. Maybe he’s throwing a tantrum, I don’t pretend to know what goes on in the devil’s mind.”

Dean sighs and rubs his face, as if taking down Lucifer wasn’t hard enough now they had to deal with whatever fucked up mojo he was digging into. “Jo you want to call Kevin and have him look into this? Feels like the sort of fucked up signs of the times bullshit that’s right up his alley.”

Jo’s mouth curls a little and Dean can already hear the quip of ‘not your fucking secretary Winchester’ but it never comes. She takes out her cell and dials up Kevin without as much as another glance and he holds back a sigh. Jody must have told them he’d had the nightmare again.

He appreciates the concern, it’s nice to have a little ragtag group of – whatever the hell they all were – but he’s fine. On a normal hunt he might be a little pissy or distant but he can get it together just fine when they have something as big as this on their plates. He can lock himself in his room in the bunker after they ice the devil.

They all have their losses, his aren’t any different. Jody has her husband and son, Bobby his wife, and Ellen and Jo with Bill – what makes him so fucking special?

The denial helps sometimes, makes it feel like the pain he’s drowning in is even somewhere close to normal.

He hadn’t realized it until years later when he’d lost his Dad and tasted the difference. It hurt yeah, punched him right into a bender that had Bobby fishing him out of too many roadhouses to count. He’d been reckless and miserable and it had taken weeks before he finally felt close to normal again.

And it hadn’t even come close to the raw gaping wound in his very being he wakes up every single day with. Never changing. Never healing. Just as fresh at thirty-six as it was at twenty-one.

None of them wake up screaming every other night for who they’ve lost. None of them completely shut down when a tallish brown haired boy walks past looking just around the right age –

When Castiel had carved his ribs up to hide him from the angels he’d had fucking tears in his eyes when he’d pulled back.

“Oh, Dean.” He’d said sadly.

Soulmates were explained to him for the first time. God’s super special matchmaking club. And Christ Dean, doesn’t everything make so much sense now? Your little brother was custom made to fall in love with you by God himself.

God must have not considered leather belts in the mix though and Dean threw up right there on the ugly motel carpet.

So they’re all a little delicate with him. Dean doesn’t really talk about Sam but his presence hangs over all of them regardless. They’re a package deal even now.

People are curious of course, John made his rounds in the hunting community and Dean is a bit of a legend these days despite how fucking stupid that is. It’s common knowledge that baby Winchester once walked the same trail as everyone else, lasting evidence by the picture of John, Pastor Jim, Bobby, Dean and little Sammy peeking out behind him on the roadhouse bulletin board. The stories aren’t always complete though when they make their way through the rumor mill, only whispers and gossip that all contradict one another.

The consequences of asking Dean what happened to his brother is the only true point everyone can agree on.

Even his own little group only have bits and pieces because Bobby and Ellen honor Dean’s privacy. No one’s allowed to sit in the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean keeps three pictures in his wallet, a school photo of a chubby faced kindergartener with a mop of brown hair, a high school senior photo with a handsome dimpled teenager wearing a graduation cap that he never got to walk in, and an old creased print out of two boys sitting in a junker in Bobby’s scrap yard. Sam committed suicide when Dean was twenty something and it really fucked him up seems to be the general consensus from the combined math.

Dean bites back the raw ache in his chest because today is not the day to be heartsick. He’d had been ready to put a bullet in his own brain back then, only waiting to make sure Sam got a proper burial after his pyre but Pastor Jim stopped him in his tracks.

"Sam was a good boy who was sick, God understands that and I know without a doubt he’s up in heaven.”

Dean nodded blankly, the thought of Sam getting to be anywhere other than paradise if an afterlife exists never even crossed his mind.

“But suicide for the masses is a sin, Dean.”

He didn’t have to say anymore, if Dean followed after his little brother and there was something waiting for him on the other side Dean would be heading straight for fiery brimstone. He would never get to see Sam again.

So Dean doesn’t have a death wish no matter how badly he wants to hurry up and meet his maker. He’s got a second chance at this now too, having done his time in hell after selling his soul for a chance to put a bullet in Yellow Eye’s brain. It’d been stupid, Azazel’s cruel whispers having gotten inside his head _‘you really think heaven exists Dean? Are you a hunter or a child?’ ‘Sam is burning just like the rest of you filth will.’_

Dean had taken a one way ticket straight there, express, please.

But demons lie, and after Dean got off the rack and could spend a few years to search the place it was obvious Sam wasn’t there. He was relieved, truly, but that didn’t stop the pure misery of crushed hope Alistair’s knife couldn’t ever hope to inflict.

So Dean’s back to biding his time, Cas proof that heaven exists and somewhere up there little brother is behind door number two. And rumor has they even get to share. A small silver lining that makes waking down empty streets on a hunt for the devil worth it.

“There you are!” 

The shout is deafening in the silence, makes everyone jump a little as Meg steps out from behind the post office, hands casually tucked in her pockets.

“Meg.” Dean growls because of fucking course the little bitch would be in the middle of this.

“Took you long enough, bit of a schedule to keep here.” She barely raises a brow when Dean aims the colt at her head.

“Dean,” Bobby warns. “Don’t waste bullets on fodder.”

“Yeah, Dean-o. You’ve got bigger things to worry about, like your old pals I brought along.”

“Dean-“ Cas has that look again and Dean’s about to ask what it is when he hears the growls. 

“Here’s the deal. You and the Scooby Gang come with me or you end up as puppy chow. Lucifer doesn’t like to wait and he’s got a nice little show set up for you guys out at the farm.”

They quickly glance amongst each other, surprised at the direct request.

“We’ll pass.” Jo spits and Dean shoots, the dying howl enough confirmation his shot was true.

Then they’re running.

Outrunning hellhounds isn’t the smartest plan, Dean knows that better than anyone, but it’s preferable to fighting something none of them but Cas can see.

He pauses.

Cas can see them.

He glances back and sure enough, there’s the angel calmly raising his hand –

The blast knocks everyone to their feet, their earth shaking slightly and despite how long Dean’s known Cas it’s still a bit creepy to see how powerful he is when his batteries are properly charged.

Meg’s fuming which is a damn good sign, shouting at Castiel who looks unbothered by the outburst. The growling’s stopped.

“C’mon.” He murmurs, nudging the group up. “Let’s find this farm.”

They manage to sneak away but it’s more like Meg’s letting them go, probably knows they’re all going to the same place anyway. Fewer dead mutts if they’re not being escorted.

Jo’s phone vibrates as they try and map out exactly which farm Lucifer’s most likely to be hanging out on. “Whoa.”

“What?” Dean raises an eyebrow, not one for surprises mid mission.

Jo shoves the phone at him, evidently whatever it is better if coming from the prophet himself. “What’s going on Kev?”

“Dean this isn’t just a spell- oh my god. This is huge! This is massive! I looked into the reaper thing because that’s super rare, why would they be gathering like that? Even when people die it doesn’t make a lot of sense but then I started looking through the Apocolapsye tome   - oh my god Dean, he’s trying to unleash the horseman.”

“What  - Kevin, slow down. What does that mean?”

“Horseman of the apocalypse Dean, and if the reapers are all gathered together like that I think – I think he’s trying to unleash death.”

“Death.” Dean repeats, feeling everyone’s eyes on him.

“It has to be done at midnight so you have time to shoot him. I found the spell – really old powerful stuff here – looks like it has to be done somewhere with a history of death. Turns out Carthage is a historical site, there’s a farm up there that was a civil war battleground.” He sighs grimly. “Too close to be a coincidence I figured.”

“Yeah.” Dean closes his eyes, rubbing his temple because Lucifer? Okay, maybe they can somehow miraculously swing that. But how the hell are they supposed to fix unleashed death? “Thanks Kevin, you find anything else call us.”

He ends the call and hands the phone back to Jo, “Well, stakes are slightly higher than we thought.”

“Higher than a town full of missing people and Lucifer on the loose?” Jody winces.

“Kevin thinks he’s cracked why the son of the bitch is here. He’s trying to free death – the horseman. Don’t ask me how that works but it’s supposed to happen at midnight on some civil war battleground.”

“It makes sense.” Castiel is suddenly standing next to them, his trench coat a little creased but otherwise unharmed. “The reapers are waiting for death to arrive.”

“So we shoot Lucifer before he can free death, sounds like it’s still the same plan to me. Just a bit tighter schedule.” Jo shrugs.

“I think I know the farm too.” Bobby hums, creasing the map over his leg to try and smooth it out before circling the location with his finger.

Dean claps Bobby on the back, gesturing for him to lead on.

…

They can’t afford to go back for a car in case Meg is still wandering around with her mutts so they have to hike up, taking the better part of the evening. It sucks but better they have as much of the element of surprise they can when it comes to Lucifer.

… who is shoveling dirt. 

They linger on the edge of the clearing, not naive enough to think they can stay off an angel’s radar for long but to get some sort of game plan.

“Well, there’s our missing townspeople.” Jody nods toward the group of people lingering motionlessly around Lucifer. It’s dark, their silhouettes just barely visible in the moonlight. 

“That can’t be all of them.” Ellen frowns. “Carthage is a big place, that’s only a few hundred.”

“… You think he’s filling up or digging that hole?” Jo asks quietly.

Dean’s grip on the Colt tightens, not about to let this monster linger on home turf any longer.

He sneaks around the side, the thick woods offering a bit of protection so when Jody and Bobby make their way into the clearing Lucifer’s focus is completely on them.

“Well well, two little hunters – no wait,” He looks up, spotting Jo and Ellen who’re acting as back up from the top of the hill. “Four little hunters? You guys really made a big production of this. Lucky me.”

He raises a hand but Dean doesn’t wait for him to use it, signaling to Cas who snaps him right next to the devil, colt pressed against the monster's temple. “No, lucky me.”

The shot echoes in the clearing and Lucifer falls, nothing but dead weight. 

“Did we-?” He glances at Cas because as much as the Colt was a mythic weapon in its own right, nothing in their life is ever this simple.

Cas doesn’t get to answer because Lucifer is twitching at their feet. “Ow!”

Dean's stomach drops, they knew going into this it was a long shot but the reality is they’re now completely defenseless, their only hope a retreat 

“Where the hell did you get that?” He stumbles back up, glaring at Dean before a flicker of recognition crosses his face. “Oh! Well look who it is, Dean Winchester himself and – Castiel? Why isn’t this just a big reunion.”

Dean’s eyes flick over to his group, everyone as shocked as he is but he can also see the resolve in their faces. They’re willing to go down fighting but the only way that will end is in a bloodbath and he prays it won’t come to that.  

“Lucifer.” Cas acknowledges tensely. 

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up to the party after that little stunt with Meg.”

Dean edges backward to get closer to his friends while Lucifer’s eyeing up Castiel, thinking maybe they can swing a full escape with everyone alive and the Colt in hand if they play their cards right. 

“Smooth there Dean. You really think I’m going to let you just waltz out of here with that little spitfire of a weapon?” He glances over with a smile, the expression friendly but it’s all teeth.

“You’ll have to pry it out of my dead hands.” He growls. 

“Well, we both know I won’t be doing that – gotta put away Michael’s toys just like I found them. I won’t hurt you or your friends Dean, just wanted to talk.” 

“Talk.” Dean repeats tonelessly. 

“Mmm, I thought I made that obvious when I asked for you guys to come meet me?” He grabs his shovel again, sticking it into the dirt.

“You had Meg sic her hellhounds on us."

“Tomayto, tomahto. The point is you’re here and boy do I have questions for you.”

“He’s not going to be answering any of your stupid questions!” Jo shouts, Ellen covering her mouth with her hand.

“Joanna Beth –“ She hisses, holding tight to her daughter but Lucifer barely spares them a glance.

“Fun little group you’ve got going here. Anyway, as you can see this – “ He gestures to his body, the middle aged man he was wearing looking sickly and now that Dean was paying attention to it – almost peeling around the corners. “- ain’t gonna cut it. Had to make due on a short schedule and for some reason, I can’t feel my true blue meat suit anywhere.” He laughs lightly. “But you’re all over everyone’s radar so I figured I’d ask before ransacking the country. Just saves on time.”

“I hope that poor son of a bitch stays where the fuck he’s hiding.” Dean spits, because if Lucifer can’t find his true vessel and Dean firmly in the no category this apocalypse can go fuck itself.

Lucifer raises an eyebrow, looking at Dean and then the rest of the group as if waiting for the punchline. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” 

“I did. But I’m confused, are you mentally incapacitated or just a fucking idiot?” 

Dean stares, not liking the gleam in Lucifer’s eyes. “I don’t know where your vessel is.” 

And then he’s laughing, horrible crackling laughter that sets Dean’s teeth on edge and makes his fingers twitchy for his gun. “Oh wow! Really, wow.” He wipes a fake tear from his eye. “It’s Sam, dumbass.”

It’s Bobby’s sharp hiss of breath next to him that tells Dean that he didn’t somehow hallucinate that last part.

“Seriously? It’s fate Dean, of course it’s going to be your brother. You think just anyone can be the true vessel for an archangel? There needs to be some divine poetry!” 

He snickers, stepping forward and Dean still in too much shock to process this because Sam is – was – a vessel too. In some horrible universe where Sam lived and they both said yes they’d have ended the world.

He can see the moment Lucifer’s amusement changes to distaste, the devil so close they could touch but Dean’s feet feel like lead. “Dean, you didn’t.” He sighs, words practically dripping in disappointment.

“I – “ But he has no voice, nothing to defend himself with because he did. 

“Don’t listen to him!” He can hear Bobby but it’s distant, lost under the sounds of sirens and the weight of Sam’s cooling body against his chest. 

Lucifer shakes his head, the world coming back into sharp focus with a gasp and while his memories of that night are vivid that was almost too detailed.

“Well, it’s no matter. Lucifer will save the day – you hear that Michael!” He shouts at the sky.

Dean has no idea what he’s talking about, what he’s going to do without a vessel and what new horrors that’s going to mean for them. Lucifer’s distracted though and Jody pulls Dean back to them, letting him breathe for a moment despite the lump in his throat.

“Just like demons, Dean.” Bobby says fiercely, “They lie to get under your skin. We don’t know who his vessel really is and it is not your fault. You hear me, son?”

Dean can only nod because that’s what he’s supposed to do. They failed here, the colt doesn’t work and half the town is probably rotting under the soft soil at Lucifer’s feet.

And Sam’s dead.

“Cas?” He croaks, getting his feet back underneath him as he stands tall, lingering hands making sure he’s okay but he brushes them off. “Take us out of here.”

“I can’t.” Cas says tensely.

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I tried as soon as the gun didn’t work, Lucifer is most likely manipulating my grace for exactly that reason.”

“Oh great, so we have to hike through the woods with that psycho chasing us?” Jo groans.

“On no ones going anywhere, you have to stay for the show!” Lucifer interrupts, waving a hand as the hoard of townspeople approach one by one only to have their throat slit.

“No!” Jody shouts but they can’t move, can’t do anything. Innocents are being slaughtered and their only weapon against Lucifer is a dud. 

“It’s midnight.” Cas says softly, watching as the body count only grows, Lucifer seeming to get more energetic the higher the body count.

“Oh you guys are in for a treat!” He shouts, practically dancing around the grave as the ground begins to shake.

 It’s over as quick as it began, the night silent with everyone else in a ten mile radius in the ground at their feet.  Instead, an elderly man stands poised in front of Lucifer seeming more distasteful with the arrangement then anyone else here.

“Death!” Lucifer shouts, gesturing his arms wide. “A pleasure, now I had some big ideas I can’t wait to discuss with you but it turns out I’m in a bit of a jam. Wasted too much of my power taking out this hodump and I think if I overdo it this meat suit is going to split right down the middle. It’ll be nothing for you though.”

Death – and Dean can fully believe that’s who it is, the raw power radiating off the guy mixed with just how old it feels is making him want to drop down on his knees. He doesn’t say a word though, just look at Lucifer like a hyperactive toddler he’s forced to amuse until his parents get back.

“Let’s get this show rolling then!”

Death taps his cane lightly, an anticlimactic end to Lucifer’s showboating.

There was no audible request, Lucifer blinking in surprise. “Quick on the uptake, I like that. Shows some real initiative and I got to say I need a bit of that around here.”

Death stares back, just as blank.

“So…” He clears his throat loudly. “Don’t mean to rush but like, how long is this –  

The wind starts to pick up, Dean’s jacket whipping against his body with a strength that almost makes him stagger. The sky flashes, lightning illuminating the farm for a split second before the thunder cracks with so much force Dean’s ears won’t stop ringing.

“Yeah baby, this is what I’m talking about!” Lucifer shouts but it’s barely audible above the brewing storm.

They’re frozen in place, the wind too strong to work against and the display of power in front of them hypnotizing to witness. The thunder cracks once more, louder and rocking Dean’s bones as the dirt at the devil's feet seems to swirl. It molds like clay, churning and bubbling wickedly fast until mud turns to flesh, dust to cloth and a body is laying between the two.

The storm quiets but the tension doesn’t break, whatever the hell they’d just witnessed too much to process.

“Who - ?” Jo whispers but is interrupted when the body abruptly gasps, hands scrambling in the dirt to pull itself up, raising its fists instinctively as legs scramble for purchase on the dirt.   

Dean drops the colt, paralyzed at the spitting image in front of him, perfect down to the stupid Led Zeppelin shirt he’d yelled at Sam for stretching out.  

“Hiyah Sammy.” Lucifer grins down at a wide eyed seventeen year old Sam Winchester.  “Hey now, don’t look at me like that. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Sam looks like he sincerely doubts that, eyes narrowing at the man leaning way too close for comfort. “Who the fuck are you?”

Dean nearly breaks his leg scrambling up the hill, hunter logic and tests straight out the window because everything inside him is screaming his little brother’s name. It’s Sam. It’s fucking Sam.

“Dean!” He doesn’t know who’s shouting it – maybe all of them but he doesn’t care. It’s Lucifer and who knows what kind of tricks he’s got up his sleeve but Dean hasn’t felt alive for fifteen fucking years, his resurrection completely due to that gangly teenager staring down the devil.

And Dean sure as hell isn’t going to let him do it alone.

“Sam!” It’s strangled, the name feeling reverent on his tongue with how carefully he’s used it but Sam still turns on instinct, never not answering his call.

He drops to a slide in the grass, pulling Sam protectively into his chest – safe, he’s safe here right here where no Devil or God or little brother doubts can hurt him.

“Dean-?” He hears the muffled question against his chest but he ignores it, holding him even tighter like he could hide him from Lucifer’s gaze altogether.

“You’re not getting him.” He snarls, his fingers twitching for a knife for the first time in years, but it’s not Alistair’s voice in his head, it’s all Dean. Wanting to cause pain and suffering unlike anything found on earth at the slightest hint that Sam could be taken away from him again.

There must be something in his eyes because Lucifer hesitates, confusion evident as he looks between the two. It’s just a single moment but it’s all Castiel needs, a rush of air and Dean’s being dragged and folded in the familiar vacuum of angel transport, Sam tight in his arms.

It’s a rough landing, Castiel having to be fast and they all land sprawled on the floor in Jody’s living room, the colt clattering next to them.

“What the hell was that!” Jo shouts, sitting up with a huff on the carpet.

Her glare could curdle milk but Dean isn’t paying it any attention, gently untangling Sam from his arms. “You okay, angel transport is a bit rough.”

“Dean – what?” Sam stares up at him with wide eyes, searching over a face that he now realizes is probably much older than he’s used to.

“Okay, don’t freak out.” He soothes, running a hand down Sam’s back. It’s been years but he still knows exactly what to do, Sam’s face relaxing as he leans back into the touch. “What do you last remember?”

Sam's trying to school his features but the subtle flinch tells Dean everything he needs to know.

“Sammy-“

“I didn’t – “ Sam interrupts, unable to meet his eyes anymore and that’s just not acceptable. He gently nudges his face up, his brother's eyes now brimming with tears. “I just couldn’t.”

“I know.” Dean murmurs. Because he does know, he’s read that note more times than he can count, memorizing every little pause and scribble for some answer as to what he could have done differently.

“I thought you’d be –“ He doesn’t let him finish, hearing Sam himself say the words that he’s carried around like shackles of his failure all this time was too much. Sam thought he’d be better off, happier – grateful even. Every line of it had made him want to make his own death that much more painful for his obvious neglect at showing his little brother just how loved – how _precious_ and irreplaceable he was.

So Dean does what he should have done when he saw Sam flushing when he got out of the shower in the motel with the wash clothes for towels, when he saw the hooded look in his eyes from across the Impala seats after an extra long drive, when Dean’s own heartbeat sped up at Sam pulling off his t-shirt in the sticky Carolina summer.

He leans in and kisses his brother to shut him up, right there in Jody’s living room in front of his friends and God himself. Kisses away all the doubts that this beautiful boy in front of him could be anything other than the base of Dean's very existence. 

If Sam thinks he's full of poison Dean wants to be dripping in it. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there's a definite theme to my writing. Tbh, I just write what I want to read and most of it is hurt Sam and messing with time/ages. I have a few ideas for this that I'd like to explore, especially since it's kind of a funky open timeline. If anyone has anything they'd like to see let me know! Enjoy and happy Friday :)


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